


crushcrushcrush

by lostinsanity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Experimentation, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, First Time, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Rimming, Smut, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinsanity/pseuds/lostinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At fourteen and twelve, Louis and Harry can only learn from each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crushcrushcrush

**Author's Note:**

> at first, i had no idea where i was going with this. but as i continued, i soon realized i knew where i was going -- straight to hell.
> 
> special thanks to my cupcake holly for beta'ing and to yvonne, underage expert extraordinaire, for answering any questions and breaking the ice for my very first time writing this kind of thing!

For thirteen and eleven, Louis and Harry were unbelievably close. With Louis going into ninth grade and Harry heading for seventh, Louis’ friends constantly taunted him about how it wasn’t cool for him to hang out with a little kid, while Harry’s friends thought he was a god for being close to a high schooler. The two boys had known each other for longer than they could remember, though. Their prolonged friendship made them totally oblivious to the comments and only tuned in to each other.

The two spent nearly all their time together. When not at Louis’ house, they were at Harry’s; of course, it wasn’t a struggle to get to and from because they lived down the street from each other. Days were spent watching cartoons and playing COD and nights were spent giggling beneath the covers over comic books and bad jokes. Even at thirteen, with giggles at the word ‘boobs’ and whispers behind cupped hands, Louis still found himself much like a middle school girl with a crush when he was around his best friend.

In fact, it was one of those flashlight-lit pillow fort days that led to Louis realizing that he was like a middle school girl with a crush. A big, fat, hopeless crush.  And not just a big, fat, hopeless crush on anyone. It was a big, fat, hopeless crush on Harry. Harry, his _best friend_. It really began when Harry began to strip off his jeans and tee and just crawled into the fort in his boxer-briefs--not a rare occurrence, they had seen each other nude loads of times--but Louis was just beginning to notice how the soft curve of Harry’s small bum and that little bit of pudge on his soft tummy made Louis bite his lip and avert his gaze.

From then on it was like tiptoeing around broken glass. Louis knew for a fact that, then thirteen, he was a horny teenager, but Harry, at eleven, was barely out of the “cooties” phase, and he didn’t want to spoil his innocence. Not his best friend’s innocence. So, as the pool parties and sleepovers continued, Louis quietly slipped away to the bathroom and wanked until he came, moaning loudly to the thought of his best friend bouncing on his cock while Harry was, in reality, splashing innocently just outside or sleeping peacefully in the next room.

It became so intense that Louis was soon waking up in bed, usually next to Harry, with vivid memories of a dream of Harry’s plump, pink lips stretched over his dick and a damp sensation in his pants. Stealing a pair of Harry’s boxers was never a problem, but having to wrap up his soiled ones in a plastic bag and tuck it into his backpack was always a trouble when it occurred at four in the morning.

But, either way, Louis managed to keep his secret to himself without even a peep to Harry. Despite all the times Anne had caught him making googly eyes at her son as he bent over to pick something up, his bum on display, she had never said anything, and neither had Jay. So Louis was in the clear. He’d kept it secret for a year until one day Harry snuck up on him and made his whole world come crashing down.

They’re at Louis’ house, having come home after school to find a note on the counter from Jay that she’s working late. The two do the usual business, Louis makes them a snack and they go up to Louis’ room to play video games.

“I have a question,” Harry asks, eyes fixated to the screen as his fingers fly over the PS3 controller, pulling the triggers to shoot the heads off of virtual zombies. Louis isn’t paying much attention to him, what with being in the middle of a battle on the game, so he just grunts in response, signaling Harry to just ask.

“Alright. You aren’t going to make fun of me, are you?” he questions as he pauses the game.

And suddenly Louis knows it’s serious, because Harry never pauses the game. Never. And it’s absolutely unheard of for him to pause it when he’s in the middle of a battle. Even if he’s about to piss his pants.

“You know I’d never,” Louis assures Harry, putting the controller down and repositioning himself on the rug criss-cross applesauce to face Harry. “Just come out and ask me, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

Harry looks down, fiddling with his thumbs and pulling his thin legs into his chest. “Okay, well. You know Julian in my class?” Louis nods, eyes intent on Harry’s lips, and he tries desperately to push down that familiar feeling that grows deep in his gut. “We were talking last week and he told me that...” He stops, averting his gaze before looking up at Louis sheepishly. “He said that if I see a pretty girl and I feel... you know, different…then I need to run because I’m going to turn to stone and I’ll be a statue forever.”  

Louis feels his throat get tight, but at the same time he chuckles lowly. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he says quickly, willing this conversation to end so he can get Harry back into the game and relieve himself from the tightness in his jeans in the bathroom, where Harry will have no idea what’s going on.

But Harry doesn’t just drop the subject. “Well, what’s the truth then?” he questions, and Louis can hear the innocence in his voice, and for some reason that just goes straight to his cock and his breath catches.

“Uh,” Louis begins, not knowing how to even explain. “Well. When you see something that you really like, like a pretty girl or--” if you’re Louis Tomlinson, your best friend’s arse, “--or uh, yeah, then something sort of happens to you, and I know they’ve taught you this in one of your classes, because I know they taught it to me...” Louis sputters and struggles to find a way to say it so that he doesn’t sound like a total idiot. He’s pretty sure that Harry knows the concept of erections and that he’s gotten some before--he’s twelve now, new to puberty and his body is all out of whack--but he doubts that Harry’s ever really _thought_ about what they mean or that he’s ever masturbated. Louis just _knows_ Harry that way, and he’s always been innocent.

He turns. Harry’s still looking up at him with huge, innocent green eyes, twinkling with curiosity, and Louis knows he has to keep going further.

“Your uh,” he wrings his hands, “your willy starts to get hard. And that doesn’t mean all of you is going to turn to stone, you’re fine. Except the hardness doesn’t go away unless you make it go away or if you just ignore it. You aren’t going to turn to stone, though. Just your willy. And it’ll go back to normal, so don’t worry.”

Harry nods, turning back to the television, and for a moment Louis lets out a relieved breath, thinking he’s done with the subject. But the relief is short-lived when Harry mumbles, “My willy has gotten hard before. But I just left it and it went away. I was scared because I thought all of me was going to turn to stone. It’s happened a bunch of times.”

Louis closes his eyes, letting out a slow breath through his nose. He knows Harry’s waiting for a response, so he says, “See? Told you it was fine.”

Harry nods again, curtly, lips pressed. “Except it doesn’t happen when I look at pretty girls.”

Louis makes a bit of a choked sound in his throat, and suddenly his cock begins to hurt where it’s pushing hard against his jeans. He wills himself not to ask, but his mouth doesn’t listen and he blurts out, “When does it happen?”

“Sometimes,” Harry begins, looking down at his lap as he says it, “it’s just random. Sometimes I’ll be in school. Sometimes I’ll wake up and it’ll be hard and it’ll feel really funny and it’ll hurt, so I just go back to sleep. And um, sometimes...” He trails off, and Louis is peering at him curiously, waiting for the rest of the sentence as his cock throbs in his jeans and he _really_ hopes Harry’s about to say what Louis wants him to say.

“Sometimes?” Louis prompts and leans down over his lap so that Harry can’t see the bulge in his pants.

“Sometimes when I see you,” Harry finishes quietly. Louis’ dick literally twitches and he feels like he can’t breathe, but Harry keeps on talking. “Sometimes when we change for sleepovers or swimming or something. And sometimes when you wear those really tight jeans that outline your bum. Or sometimes--sometimes when I’m asleep I wake up and you’re not next to me anymore and there’s a light from the bathroom and I can hear you making noises and--yeah.”

Louis can't breathe. He's been imagining Harry while pleasuring himself for over a year now and suddenly, _suddenly_ Harry is telling him that he's getting hard at Louis getting himself off? He's sweating and his cock is throbbing and he can't do anything about it because Harry's _right there_. Watching.

Watching.

“Louis, are you alright?” he asks softly, and his voice is just enough. Just enough for Louis to push over the edge and start palming himself through his jeans. He lets out a soft moan, his eyes falling shut, and Harry swallows thickly beside him, his small bulge straining against his jeans as well.

Louis opens his eyes, keeping his hand on his cock through his jeans. Harry's sitting there, pupils blown wide and lips parted, his curls falling perfectly over his forehead and his hands resting on his knees, gripping them hard, knuckles white. Louis doesn't really think it's fair to get himself off and make Harry watch when it's obvious that it's wrecking the poor kid.

“Louis,” Harry whispers, and he begins to mimic Louis' movements, pressing his hand down onto his crotch and gasping at the contact. Louis crawls over to him as Harry whines, “Please, Lou. It hurts. You're older, you know what to do. Please, please help.”

Louis' pants get impossibly, painfully tighter, and he reaches Harry, without a word pulling him in and pressing their lips together. Harry pushes into the kiss, his plump little lips fitting perfectly against Louis'. Louis sucks Harry's lower lip into his mouth and Harry moans, climbing up onto Louis' lap and settling down directly on Louis' throbbing cock.

“Do me a favour,” Louis gasps, lips brushing against Harry's softly. “Can you... can you wiggle your bum a bit?”

Harry complies, grinding tentatively down onto Louis, and Louis sucks in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly. “God, yes,” he moans as he feels the curve of Harry's arse against his thighs, rubbing down on Louis' clothed dick. “Feels really good, Harry.” It's the first time Louis' ever done anything with anyone, his first kiss, even, and the feel of something other than his own hand on himself is enough to cripple him. Add the fact that it's the boy he's been daydreaming about for a year and it is sheer bliss.

Louis soon feels that white-hot pleasure building up in the pit of his stomach and he wraps his small hands over Harry's small arse cheeks, guiding him up, rolling his hips down against Louis' until he's coming in his pants, a throaty moan ripping out of him and his vision going white. He falls slack, collapsing down onto Harry, his arms going around his shoulders as he mutters out a quiet “Holy shit.” They stay like that for a moment until Harry whimpers softly, and Louis can feel himself already getting hard again.

He stands up, guiding Harry over to his bed and climbing up on it, the racecar-printed sheets making a stark contrast against what’s going on atop them. Harry sits there, trembling, his eyes blown with lust and his lips pink and plump from kissing. Louis immediately pulls him back in, tugging his shirt off and raking his eyes down Harry’s immature, soft little body.

“My willy’s still really hard,” Harry interjects, his voice sounding a bit hoarse and desperate. The words go straight to Louis’ cock, and he has to strip his jeans and shirt off to give himself some air. “Please. Yours got better, make mine get better. It hurts real bad, Lou.”

Guilt strikes Louis straight in the gut and he suddenly feels horrible for helping himself instead of Harry first, and he fumbles to pull off Harry’s trousers and pants and free his aching dick. Harry gasps as soon as it hits the cool air, and Louis stares down at it. It’s standing tall, flush against Harry’s pudgy little belly, the head pink and throbbing and it actually looks like it _hurts_. Louis grasps it with one hand, his fingers wrapping around experimentally, and Harry lets out a soft, muffled moan at the contact.

“Touch me,” he begs quietly, and Louis bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. “It feels really good, Lou, please.”

Louis nods, and he recalls something in a video that his friend Stan had showed him a while ago. He mimics it, bringing his head down to meet Harry’s belly button and wrapping his lips tentatively over the head of Harry’s cock. Harry groans, his hand finding its way into Louis’ hair and tugging on it hard. Louis pulls back, looking up through thick lashes with a look of guilt on his face.

“Did I do that wrong?” Louis whimpers, but Harry shakes his head vigorously.

“No, god, Louis, it felt so good,” he whines, breathing heavily. “Do it again, please, do it again. It felt so, so good.”

Louis fumbles and nods as he leans down again, slowly, doing the same as before, his own cock twitching at the moan that escapes Harry’s lips. He slowly takes more of Harry into his mouth until his nose is nuzzled into the soft skin at the base of Harry’s cock, and then he remembers what the girl did in that video Stan showed him, so he hollows his cheeks out and sucks. Harry wheezes above him, and Louis figures that’s a good thing, so he keeps doing it, except he starts to move his head up and down, sucking hard on Harry’s dick and loving the helpless moans that come from the younger boy. Louis’ got no idea what he’s doing, but he thinks that Harry likes it, so he keeps going, hollowing his cheeks and pumping and sucking and even flicking his tongue over the slit at the top.

“Louis, oh _god_ , Louis,” Harry suddenly shouts, and Louis pulls off to look at him just as Harry’s hips buck up and he comes with a whine, spurting white and hot all over Louis’ face. Louis freezes and runs his fingers through the come on his face. He’s never tasted it before, so he takes three of his fingers and gets them slick with Harry’s come before sticking them all in his mouth.

He frowns at the bitter taste, but as he looks up and realizes that Harry’s face is totally wrecked at the sight and he’s hard again, he figures that tasting it is a good thing.

But Louis’ still painfully hard, even more so now after sucking Harry off, and he pushes Harry back onto the pillows before crawling on top of him. Harry’s curls are matted to his forehead with sweat and Louis wipes the rest of the come off of his face with his hand, sucking on his fingers and licking at the rest of it, watching the colour drain from Harry’s face as he does and feeling his lips curl up into a smirk.

“D'you like that?” he taunts, and he doesn’t know where the words came from but he knows they’re right when Harry nods curtly and blinks blankly, hand flying down to grab his cock. Louis shoves it away and instead ruts down onto Harry’s thigh, his dick rubbing down against his boxers in a way that leaves Harry staring down with his jaw slack and lips pink and plump.

Louis stops for a moment, out of breath and arms trembling where they hold him up over Harry’s body. He tries to think of a way to help both him and Harry at the same time, but for god sakes, all Louis knows how to do is wank and he certainly can’t do that to him and Harry all at once.

Unless.

He kicks off his boxers and crawls up so that his cock is level with Harry’s, which is standing against his stomach. Harry’s bewildered and confused and he’s so fucking _wrecked_ that he’s got no idea what to do about it, so Louis teaches him.

“Give me your hand,” he commands, and Harry obliges, placing his hand in Louis’. Even though he’s younger than Louis is, his hands are about the same size, and Louis easily places Harry’s hand on his cock. “Just follow my movements,” he instructs.

He slides his dick up against Harry’s and wraps his hand around it, linking his fingers with Harry’s. Their two hands easily fit around both their cocks, and Louis’ is still pretty slick from Harry’s come. Slowly but surely, he begins to pump both their cocks, his hand guiding Harry’s up and down and up and down. It’s not long before he creates a rhythm and the two are moaning in tandem, Louis using his thumb to flick across both of their pink, flush heads and Harry following completely. Louis’ arms are beginning to shake and he can feel himself losing control, shuddering and moaning and hips bucking up erratically. He comes with a sharp intake of breath and paints Harry’s small chest off-white.

The friction of their hands is beginning to hurt, but Harry hasn’t come yet, and Louis wants to make sure that his best friend is all taken care of. He bites back the pain and continues to guide Harry’s hand up and down along both their cocks until Harry’s arm begins to stall and Louis pulls Harry’s hand away and lets himself do the rest of the job, letting Harry thrust up into his fist and watching as his eyes flutter shut and he comes again, this time screaming out Louis’ name, and Louis nearly feels like he’s going to get hard again, but his cock is sensitive and even the slightest touch brings pain.

Louis collapses on top of Harry, the room now dark as the sun’s gone down, and, completely ignoring the mess of come between the two of them, presses a soft kiss to Harry’s lips and curls up into his side.

“See, I told you, you wouldn’t turn to stone,” Louis whispers as he pulls the covers up over the two of them, and he can feel the soft rise and fall of Harry’s chest. He must be exhausted.

“I believe you now,” Harry murmurs.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've seen something in the tags that wasn't in this part, don't worry. they'll be in the second part.


End file.
